“You want me to trust you? You’ve lied to me since the day we met.”
Client privilege be damned, Joel decided. He couldn’t let Riane continue to believe the worst. “I came to West Virginia to see your mother because I thought she might be able to help with a case I’m working on. I have a client who’s trying to find someone.”
“A missing person?”
“Not missing, exactly,” Joel hedged. “The woman I’m looking for was adopted twenty-two years ago.”
“Why do you think my mother can help?”
He hesitated, reluctant to state the conclusion that would crumble all Riane’s conceptions about her life. But the fierce determination in her eyes forced his hand. She wouldn’t let him continue to evade. More compelling than that, however, was the realization that he owed her the truth.
“I think you’re the woman I’m looking for.”
Dear Reader,
Welcome to another fabulous month of the most exciting romance reading around. And what better way to begin than with a new TALL, DARK & DANGEROUS novel from New York Times bestselling author Suzanne Brockmann? Night Watch has it all: an irresistible U.S. Navy SEAL hero, intrigue and danger, and—of course—passionate romance. Grab this one fast, because it’s going to fly off the shelves.
Don’t stop at just one, however. Not when you’ve got choices like Fathers and Other Strangers, reader favorite Karen Templeton’s newest of THE MEN OF MAYES COUNTY. Or how about Dead Calm, the long-awaited new novel from multiple-award-winner Lindsay Longford? Not enough good news for you? Then check out new star Brenda Harlen’s Some Kind of Hero, or Night Talk, from the always-popular Rebecca Daniels. Finally, try Trust No One, the debut novel from our newest find, Barbara Phinney.
And, of course, we’ll be back next month with more pulse-pounding romances, so be sure to join us then. Meanwhile…enjoy!
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Editor
Some Kind of Hero
Brenda Harlen
BRENDA HARLEN
grew up in a small town surrounded by books and imaginary friends. Although she always dreamed of being a writer, she chose to follow a more traditional career path first. After two years of practicing as an attorney (including an appearance in front of the Supreme Court of Canada), she gave up her “real” job to be a mom and to try her hand at writing books. Three years, five manuscripts and another baby later, she sold her first book—an RWA Golden Heart Winner—to Silhouette.
Brenda lives in Southern Ontario with her real-life husband/hero, two heroes-in-training and two neurotic dogs. She is still surrounded by books (“too many books,” according to her children) and imaginary friends, but she also enjoys communicating with “real” people. Readers can contact Brenda by e-mail at [email protected] or by snail mail c/o Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001 New York, NY 10279.
A lot of this book is about family,
and I’d like to dedicate this story to mine.
To my parents—
Diane & John and Dan & Marj— for giving me such a wonderful example of family.
To Shelly and Jim,
whom I am privileged not just to call my sister and brother but also my friends.
To Robin & Hazel—
for always accepting me as part of their family.
And, of course, to Neill and Connor and Ryan.
I love you all.
P.S. This book is also dedicated to Ken, who didn’t even blink when his wife said three unknown women were coming to invade his cottage for a weeklong writers’ retreat. (During which time this story took form in spite of Kate and Sharon and Sheryl. Thanks anyway, ladies.)
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 1
It took Riane Quinlan half a minute to peg the tall, dark-haired man across the room as an out-of-towner, another thirty seconds to figure him for a cop.
She’d spotted him the minute he stepped through the ornately carved double doors of the hotel ballroom where the Fourth Annual Quinlan Camp Charity Ball was in progress. Part of the reason was that his was an unfamiliar face at this type of event. Another part of the reason was much more basic. Whoever he was, he was an incredible specimen of masculinity: broad shoulders, hard muscles, thick dark hair that was just a little too long for the conservative tastes of the social elite.
Not a departmental regulation crew cut, but some guys took pride in breaking the rules. This man, with the chiseled jaw, strong nose and slashing brows, looked like one of them.
From a distance, Riane couldn’t determine what color his eyes were, just that they were dark and intense.
He took a slow survey of the room. Deliberately casual. Too casual.
Definitely a cop.
As the daughter of a U.S. senator, Riane had been shadowed often enough to recognize the inherent attributes of those in law enforcement. The sculpted physique, the guarded stance, the constant attentiveness. There were security personnel hovering in the background this evening, but she knew this man wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t hired muscle—just a cop.
Her lips curved in a small smile. Just a cop was hardly an accurate description. He was almost larger than life—a real man’s man, the type of man she didn’t often have opportunity to cross paths with in her social circles.
As
